
in (oT 



QaDr 



SKETCH 



COL. JAMES GARDINER, 



OF THE ENGLISH ARMY. 



THE SUBSTANCE OE A NARRATIVE, 



KEY. PHILIP DODDRIDGE, D.D. 
W 



PTJELISHED BY THE 
AMERICAN TRACT SOCIETY, 

28 Cornhill, Boston. 






For further particulars in the life of this eminent 
Christian, the reader is referred to a volume written by 
his most intimate friend, Rev. P. Doddridge, D. D., 
entitled " Some Remarkable Passages in the Lite of the 
Honorable Colonel James Gardiner." 



(2) 



a 



i' 



rL 



SKETCH 



Colonel James Gardiner was the son of 
Captain Patrick Gardiner, who served many 
years in the armies of King William and Queen 
Anne, and died abroad with the British forces 
in Germany. 

The colonel's mother was a lady of very ex- 
cellent character, but it pleased God to exercise 
her with uncommon trials ; for she lost not only 
her husband and her brother in the service of 
their country, but also her eldest son, Mr. R. 
Gardiner, on the day which completed his six- 
teenth year, at the siege of Namur, in 1695. 
But God blessed these afflictions as the means 
of her attaining an eminent degree of piety. 

The second son, the subject of this memoir, 
was born in Linlithgowshire, January 10, 1687—3 
— the memorable year of the Revolution, in 
defense of which his own life was eventually 
sacrificed. 

In early life, his mother took care to instruct 
him with great tenderness and affection in the 
principles of true Christianity. While at the 
school of Linlithgow, he made a considerable 
progress in literature. 

(3) 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



In the younger part of his life, the good 
effects of his mother's prudent and exemplary 
care were not so conspicuous as she hoped ; yet 
there is great reason to believe they were not 
entirely lost. Could she have prevailed, he 
would not have thought of a military life : but 
it suited his taste ; and the ardor of his spirit, 
animated by the persuasions of a friend who 
greatly urged it, was not to be restrained. Nor 
will the reader wonder at this, when he knows 
that this lively youth fought three duels before 
he had attained the full stature of a man, in one 
of which he received a wound in his right cheek, 
the scar of which was always very apparent. 
This false sense of honor some might think ex- 
cusable in those unripened years, and consid- 
ering the profession of his father ; but he often 
mentioned it with regret. And after his con- 
version, he declined accepting a challenge, with 
this truly great reply, which, in a man of his 
experienced bravery, was exceedingly graceful. 
" I fear sinning," said he, " though you know I 
do not fear fighting." 

He served as a cadet very early ; and at the 
age of fourteen bore an ensign's commission in 
a Scotch regiment in the Dutch service, in which 
he continued till 1702, when he received an en- 
sign's commission from Queen Anne, which he 
bore in the battle of Ramillies, in his nineteenth 
year. 

On this occasion our young officer was com- 
manded on what seemed almost a desperate ser- 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



vice — to dispossess the French of the church- 
yard at Ramiilies, where a considerable number 
of them were posted to remarkable advantage. 
They succeeded better than was expected, and 
he was glad of such an opportunity of signal- 
izing himself. Accordingly, he had planted his 
colors on an advanced ground, and while he was 
calling to the men — probably in that horrid lan- 
guage which is so often a disgrace to our sol- 
diery — he received a shot in his mouth, which, 
without beating out any of his teeth, or touch- 
ing the fore part of his tongue, went through 
his neck. Not feeling at first the pain of the 
stroke, he wondered what was become of the 
ball, and in the wildness of his surprise, began 
to suspect he had swallowed it ; but, dropping 
soon after, he traced the passage of it by his 
finger, when he could discover it no other way. 

This occurrence happened about five or six 
o'clock in the evening of May 23, 1706; and 
the army pursuing its advantages against the 
French, without regarding the wounded, our - 
young officer lay all night in the field, agitated, 
as may well be supposed, with a great variety 
of thoughts. When he reflected upon the cir- 
cumstances of his wound, — that a ball should, 
as he then conceived, go through his head with- 
out killing him, — he thought God had preserved 
him by a miracle ; and therefore assuredly con- 
cluded that he should live, abandoned and des- 
perate as his condition then seemed. Yet had 
he little thoughts of humbling himself before 



6 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



God, and returning to him after the wanderings 
of a life so licentiously begun. But hoping he 
should recover, his mind was taken up with con- 
trivances to secure his gold, of which he had 
nearly twenty pistoles about him ; and he had 
recourse to a very odd expedient. Expecting 
to be stripped, he took out a handful of clotted 
gore, of which he was frequently obliged to 
clear his mouth ; and putting it into his left 
hand, he took out his money, and shutting his 
hand, besmeared the back of it with his blood : 
in this position he kept it, till the blood so dried, 
that his hand could not easily fall open. 

In the morning, the French, who were mas- 
ters of that spot, though defeated at some dis- 
tance, came to plunder the slain ; and seeing 
him to appearance almost expiring, one of them 
was just applying a sword to his breast, to de- 
stroy the little remainder of life, when, in the 
critical moment, a cordelier, who attended them, 
interposed, taking him by his dress for a 
Frenchman, and said, " Do not kill the poor 
child." Our young soldier heard all that passed, 
though he was not able to speak one word ; and 
opening his eyes, made a sign for something to 
drink. They gave him a sup of some spirituous 
liquor, which happened to be at hand ; from 
which he said he derived a more sensible refresh- 
ment than he could remember from any thing 
he had tasted, either before or since. Then 
asking, by signs, the friar to lean down his ear 
to his mouth, he employed the first efforts of his 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



feeble breath in telling him — what, alas ! was a 
contrived falsehood — that he was nephew to 
the governor of Huy, a neutral town in the 
neighborhood, and that, if they could convey 
him thither, he did not doubt but his uncle 
would liberally reward them. He had indeed a 
friend there, but the relationship was pretended. 
However, on hearing this, they laid him on a 
sort of hand-barrow, and sent him with a file 
of musketeers toward the place ; but the men 
lost their way, and got into a wood toward the 
evening, in which they were obliged to continue 
all night. The poor patient's wound being still 
undressed, it is not to be wondered at, that by 
this time it raged violently. . The anguish of it 
engaged him earnestly to beg that they would 
either kill him outright, or leave him there to 
die, without the torture of any other motion ; 
and indeed they were obliged to rest for a con- 
siderable time, on account of their own weari- 
ness. Thus he spent the second night in the 
open air, without any thing more than a com- 
mon bandage to stanch the blood ; and he often 
mentioned it as a most astonishing providence, 
that he did not bleed to death. 

Judging it quite unsafe to attempt carrying 
him to Huy, whence they were now several miles 
distant, his convoy took him early in the morn- 
ing to a convent in the neighborhood, where he 
was hospitably received, and treated with great 
kindness and tenderness. But the cure of his 
wound was committed to an ignorant barber- 



8 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



surgeon, who lived near the house. The tent 
which this artist applied was almost like a peg 
driven in the wound ; yet, by the blessing of 
God, he recovered in a few months. The lady 
abbess, who called him her son, treated him with 
the affection and care of a mother. He received 
a great many devout admonitions from the ladies 
there, and they would fain have persuaded him 
to acknowledge so miraculous a deliverance, by 
embracing the Catholic faith, as they were 
pleased to call it. But, though no religion lay 
near his heart, he had too much the spirit of a 
gentleman lightly to change that form of reli- 
gion which he wore loose about him, as well as 
too much good sense to swallow the absurdities 
of Popery. 

When his liberty was regained by an exchange 
of prisoners, and his health established, he was 
far from rendering to the Lord according to the 
mercy he had experienced. Very little is known 
of the particulars of those wild and thoughtless 
years which lay between the nineteenth and thir- 
tieth of his life ; except, that he experienced the 
divine goodness in preserving him in several hot 
military actions ; and yet these years were spent 
in an entire alienation from God, and an eager 
pursuit of sensual pleasure as his supreme good. 

Amidst all these wanderings from religion, 
virtue, and happiness, he approved himself so 
well in his military character, that he was made 
a lieutenant in 1708; and, after several imme- 
diate promotions, appointed major of a regiment 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 9 



commanded by the Earl of Stair. In January, 
1729-30, he was advanced to the rank of lieu- 
tenant-colonel in the same regiment, and here 
continued till April, 1743, when he received a 
colonel's commission over a regiment of dra- 
goons, at the head of which he valiantly fell, 
about two years and a half after he received it. 

We now return to that period of his life which 
passed at Paris, where he resided in the family 
of the Earl of Stair, with some interruptions, 
till about the year 1720. 

The earl's favor and generosity made him 
easy in his affairs, though he was part of the 
time out of commission, the regiment to which 
he belonged being disbanded. This was, in all 
probability, the gayest part of his life, and the 
most criminal. " Whatever good examples he 
might find in the family where he lived, it is 
certain that the French court was one of the 
most dissolute under heaven. What, by a 
wretched abuse of language, have been called 
intrigues of love and gallantry, constituted, if 
not the whole business, at least the whole hap- 
piness of his life ; and his fine constitution, than 
which, perhaps, there was hardly ever a better, 
gave him great opportunities of indulging him- 
self in those excesses ; while his good spirits 
enabled him to pursue his pleasures in such a 
manner that multitudes envied him, and called 
him, by a dreadful kind of compliment, " the 
happy rake." 

Yet the checks of conscience, and some re- 



10 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



maining principles of a good education, would 
break in upon the most licentious hours ; and 
when some of his dissolute companions were 
once congratulating him upon his felicity, a dog 
happening at that time to come into the room, 
he could not forbear groaning inwardly, and 
saying to himself, " Oh that I were that dog ! " 
Such was then his happiness, and such, per- 
haps, is that of hundreds more who bear them- 
selves highest in the contempt of religion, and 
glory in that infamous servitude which they 
affect to call liberty. 

Yet in the most abandoned days he was never 
fond of intemperate drinking, from which he 
used to think a manly pride might be sufficient 
to preserve persons of sense and spirit ; so that, 
if he ever fell into any excesses of that kind, it 
was merely out of complaisance. His frank, 
obliging, and generous temper procured him 
many friends ; and those principles which ren- 
dered him amiable to others, not being under 
the direction of wisdom and piety, sometimes 
made him more uneasy to himself than he per- 
haps might have been, if he could entirely have 
outgrown them ; especially as he was never a 
skeptic in his heart, but still retained a secret 
apprehension that natural and revealed religion 
was founded in truth. With this conviction, his 
notorious violations of the most essential pre- 
cepts of both, could not but occasion some se- 
cret misgivings of heart. His continual neglect 
of the great Author of his being, of whose per- 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 11 



fections he could not doubt, and to whom he 
knew himself to be under daily and perpetual 
obligations, gave him, in some moments of in- 
voluntary reflection, inexpressible remorse ; and 
this, at times, wrought upon him to such a de- 
gree, that he resolved he would attempt to make 
seme pious acknowledgments. Accordingly, for 
a few mornings he did it, repeating, in retire- 
ment, some passages out of the Psalms, and 
other Scriptures, which he still retained in his 
memory ; and owning, in a few strong words, 
the many mercies and deliverances he had re- 
ceived, and the ill returns he had made for them. 
But these strains were too devout to continue 
long in a heart as yet unsanctified ; for how 
readily soever he could repeat such acknowledg- 
ments of the divine power and goodness, and 
confess his own follies and faults, he was stopped 
short by the remonstrances of his conscience, as 
to the flagrant absurdity of confessing sins he 
did not desire to forsake, and of pretending to 
praise God for his mercies, when he did not en- 
deavor to live in his service. A model of devo- 
tion, where such sentiments made no part, his 
good sense could not digest; and the use of 
such language before a heart-searching Gcd, 
merely as a hypocritical form, while the senti- 
ments of his soul were contrary to it, appeared 
to him such daring profaneness, that, irregular 
as the state of his mind was, the thought of it 
struck him with horror. He therefore deter- 
mined to make no more attempts of this sort ; 



12 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



and was perhaps one of the first that delib- 
erately laid aside prayer, from some sense of 
God's omniscience, and some natural. principle 
of honor and conscience. 

These secret debates with himself, and ineffec- 
tual efforts, would sometimes return ; but they 
were overborne, again and again, by the force 
of temptation ; and it is no wonder that in con- 
sequence of them his heart grew still harder. 
Neither was it softened or awakened by the 
very memorable deliverances which at this time 
he received. Once he was in extreme danger 
from a fall from his horse. While riding fast 
down a hill, he was thrown over the horse's 
head, and the horse pitched over him ; so that 
when he rose, the beast lay beyond him, and 
almost dead. Yet, though he received not the 
least harm, it made no serious impression on his 
mind. In his return from England in the 
packet boat, but a few weeks after the former 
accident, a violent storm, that drove them up to 
Harwich, tossed them from thence for several 
hours, in a dark night, on the coast of Holland, 
and brought them into such extremity that the 
captain of the vessel urged him to go to prayers 
immediately, if he ever intended to do it at all ; 
for he concluded they would in a few minutes be 
at the bottom of the sea. In these circum- 
stances he did pray, and that very fervently, 
too ; and it was remarkable, that while he was 
crying to God for deliverance, the wind fell, and 
quickly after they arrived at Calais. But he was 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 13 



so little affected with what had befallen him, 
that, when some of his gay friends, on hearing 
the story, rallied him upon the efficacy of his 
prayers, he excused himself from the scandal of 
being thought much in earnest, by saying, " that 
it was at midnight, an hour when his good 
mother and aunt were asleep, or else he should 
have left that part of the business to them." 

We now come to the account of his conversion. 
This memorable event happened toward the mid- 
dle of July, 1719. He had spent the evening, 
which was the Sabbath, in some gay company, 
and had a disreputable engagement to fill ex- 
actly at twelve. The company broke up about 
eleven ; and he went into his chamber to kill 
the tedious hour. It happened that he took 
up a religious book, which his good mother 
or aunt had, without his knowledge, slipped 
into his portmanteau, called " The Christian 
Soldier, or Heaven taken by Storm," written 
by Mr. Thomas Watson. Guessing, by the 
title, that he should find some phrases of his 
own profession spiritualized, in a manner 
which might afford him some diversion, he re- 
solved to dip into it ; but took no serious notice 
of any thing he read: and yet, while this book 
was in his hand, an impression was made upon 
his mind — perhaps God only knows how — ■ 
which drew after it a train of the most impor- 
tant and happy consequences. 

Suddenly he thought he saw an unusual blaze 
of light fall on the book while he was reading, 



14 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



which he at first imagined might have happened 
by some accident in the candle. But lifting up 
his eyes, he apprehended, to his extreme amaze- 
ment, that there was before him, as it were sus- 
pended in the air, a visible representation of the 
Lord Jesus Christ upon the cross, surrounded 
with a glory ; and was impressed as if a voice, 
or something equivalent to a voice, had come to 
him, to this effect : " O sinner, did I suffer this 
for thee, and are these the returns ? " But 
whether this were an audible voice, or only a 
strong impression on his mind, equally striking, 
he did not seem confident, though he judged it 
to be the former. Struck with so amazing a 
phenomenon, there remained hardly any life in 
him, so that he sunk down in the arm chair in 
which he sat, and continued, he knew not ex- 
actly how long, insensible ; and when he opened 
his eyes, saw nothing more than usual. 

It may be easily supposed that he was in no 
condition to make any observation upon the 
time in which he had remained insensible ; nor 
did he, throughout all the remainder of the 
night, once recollect that criminal assignation 
which had before engrossed all his thoughts. 
He arose in a tumult of passions not to be con- 
ceived, and walked to and fro in his chamber 
till he was ready to drop down in unutterable 
astonishment and agony of heart ; appearing to 
himself the vilest monster in the creation of 
God, who had all his lifetime been crucifying 
Christ afresh by his sins, and now saw, as he 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 15 



assuredly believed, by a miraculous vision, the 
horror of what he had done. With this was 
connected such a view, both of the majesty and 
goodness of God, as caused him to loathe and 
abhor himself, and to "repent as in dust and 
ashes." He immediately gave judgment against 
himself, that he was worthy of eternal damna- 
tion ; was astonished that he was not immedi- 
ately struck dead in the midst of his wicked- 
ness ; and — which deserves particular remark 
— though he assuredly believed that he should 
ere long be in hell, and settled it as a point with 
himself, for some months, that the wisdom and 
justice of God did most necessarily require that 
such an enormous sinner should be made an 
example of everlasting vengeance, and a spec- 
tacle as such both to angels and men, so that he 
hardly durst presume to pray for pardon, yet 
what he then suffered was not so much from the 
fear of hell, though he concluded it must soon 
be his portion, as from a sense of the horrible 
ingratitude he had shown to the God of his life, 
and to that blessed Redeemer who had been in 
so affecting a manner set forth as crucified be- 
fore him. 

In this view, it may naturally be inferred that 
he passed the remainder of the night waking ; 
and he could get but little rest in several that 
followed. His mind was continually taken up 
in reflecting on the divine purity and goodness ; 
the grace which had been proposed to him in 
the gospel, and which he had rejected; the 



16 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



singular advantages he had enjoyed and abused ; 
and the many favors of Providence he had re- 
ceived, particularly in rescuing him from so 
many imminent dangers of death, which he 
now saw must have been attended with such 
dreadful and hopeless destruction. The privi- 
leges of his education, which he had so much 
despised, lay with an almost insupportable 
weight on his mind ; and the folly of that career 
of sinful pleasure, which he had so many years 
been running with desperate eagerness, filled 
him with indignation against himself, and against 
the great deceiver, by whom — to use his own 
phrase — he had been so "wretchedly and scan- 
dalously befooled." 

The mind of Colonel Gardiner continued 
from this remarkable time — ■ rather more than 
three months, but especially the first two of 
them — in a very extraordinary state. He knew 
nothing of the joys arising from a sense of par- 
don ; but, on the contrary, for the greater part 
of that time, and with very short intervals of 
hope toward the end of it, took it for granted 
that he must in all probability quickly perish. 
Nevertheless, he had such a sense of the evil of 
sin, the goodness of the Divine Being, and of 
the admirable tendency of the Christian revela- 
tion, that he resolved to spend the remainder of 
his life, while God continued him out of hell, in 
as rational and useful a manner as he could, 
and to continue casting himself at the feet of 
divine mercy every day, and often in a day, if 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 17 



peraclventure there might be hope of pardon, of 
which all that he could say was, that he did not 
absolutely despair. 

He had at that time such a sense of the de- 
generacy of his own heart that he hardly durst 
form any determinate resolution against sin, or 
pretend to engage himself by any vow, in the 
presence of God ; but was continually crying to 
him, that he would deliver him from the bon- 
dage of corruption. He perceived in himself a 
most surprising alteration with regard to the 
dispositions of his heart ; so that, though he 
felt little of the delight of religious duties, he 
extremely desired opportunities of being en- 
gaged in them : and these licentious pleasures 
which had before been his heaven, weie new ab- 
solutely Lis aversion, and he was grieved to see 
human nature, even in those to whom he was a 
stranger, prostituted to such low and contempti- 
ble pursuits. He therefore exerted his natural 
courage in a new kind of combat, and became 
an open advocate for religion, in all its princi- 
ples, so far as he was acquainted with them, and 
all its precepts, relating to sobriety, righteous- 
ness, and godliness. Yet he was very desirous 
and cautious that he might not run into an ex- 
treme ; and made it one of his first petitions to 
God, the very day after these amazing impres- 
sions had been wrought in his mind, that he 
might not be suffered to behave with such an 
aiiected strictness and preciseness as would 
lead others about him into mistaken notions of 
2 



18 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



religion, and expose it to reproach or suspicion, 
as if it were an unlovely or uncomfortable thing. 
For this reason, he endeavored to appear as 
cheerful in conversation as he conscientiously 
could ; though, in spite of all his precautions, 
some traces of that deep, inward sense which 
he had of his guilt and misery would at times 
appear. 

He made no secret of it, however, that his 
views were entirely changed, though he con- 
cealed the particular circumstance attending 
that change. He told his most intimate com- 
panions, freely, that he had reflected on the 
course of life in which he had so long joined 
them, and found it to be folly and madness, un- 
worthy of a rational creature, and much more un- 
worthy of persons calling themselves Christians. 
And he set up his standard, upon all occasions, 
against infidelity and vice, as determinately as 
ever he planted his colors in the field. There 
was at that time in Paris a certain lady who had 
imbibed the principles of Deism, and valued her- 
self much upon being an avowed advocate for 
them. Colonel Gardiner, with his usual frank- 
ness, though with that politeness which was 
habitual to him, answered like a man who per- 
fectly saw through the fallacy of her arguments, 
and was grieved to the heart for her delusion. 
On this she challenged him to debate the matter 
at large, and to fix upon a day for that purpose, 
when he should dine with her, attended with 
any clergyman he might choose. A sense of 
duty would not allow him to decline tins chal- 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 19 



lenge ; and yet he had no sooner accepted it, 
than he was thrown into great perplexity and 
distress, lest, being only a Christian of six weeks 
old, he should prejudice so good a cause by his 
unskillful manner of defending it. However, he 
sought his refuge in earnest and repeated 
prayers to God, that he would graciously enable 
him, on this occasion, to vindicate his truths in 
a manner which might carry conviction along 
with it. He then endeavored to marshal the 
arguments in his own mind as well as he could ; 
and apprehending that he could not speak with 
so much freedom before a number of persons, 
especially before those whose province he might 
in that case seem to invade, he waited on the 
lady alone upon the day appointed. 

He opened the conference with a view of such 
arguments of the Christian religion as he had 
digested in his own mind, to prove that the 
apostles were not mistaken themselves, and that 
they could not have intended to impose upon us 
in the accounts they giYe of the grand facts they 
attest ; with the truth of which facts that of the 
Christian religion is most apparently connected. 
And it was a great encouragement to him to 
find that, unaccustomed as he was to discourses 
of this nature, he had an unusual command 
both of thought and expression ; so that he 
recollected and uttered every thing as he could 
have wished. The lady heard with attention, 
till he had finished his design and waited for her 
reply. She then produced some of her objec- 
tions, which he canvassed in such a manner that 



20 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



at length she burst into tears, allowed the force 
of his arguments and replies, and appeared, for 
some time after, so deeply impressed with the 
conversation, that it was observed by several of 
her friends ; and there is reason to believe that 
the impression continued, at least so far as to 
prevent her from ever appearing under the char- 
acter of an unbeliever or a skeptic. 

This is only one among many of the battles 
he was almost daily called out to fight in the 
cause of religion 'and virtue. The continual 
railleries with which he was received in almost 
all companies where he had been most familiar 
before, often distressed him beyond measure ; 
so that he declared he would much rather have 
marched up to a battery of the enemy's cannon, 
than have been obliged, so continually as he 
was, to face such artillery as this. But, like a 
brave soldier in the first action wherein he is 
engaged, he continued resolute, though shud- 
dering at the terror of the assault, and quickly 
overcame those impressions which it is not, per- 
haps, in nature wholly to avoid. In a word, he 
went on, as every Christian by divine grace may 
do, till he turned ridicule and opposition into 
respect and veneration. 

Within about two months after his first mem- 
orable change, he began to perceive some secret 
dawnings of more cheerful hope, that, vile as he 
then saw himself to be, he might, nevertheless, 
obtain mercy through a Redeemer ; and at 
length, about the end of October, 1719, he 
found all the burden of his mind taken off at 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 21 



once by the powerful impression of that mem- 
orable scripture upon his mind, (Rom. 3 : 25, 26,) 
" Whom God hath set forth for a propitiation, 
through faith in his blood, to declare his right- 
eousness for the remission of sins — that he 
might be just, and the justifier of him that be- 
lieveth in Jesus." He had used to imagine that 
the justice of God required the damnation of so 
enormous a sinner as he saw himself to be ; but 
now he was made deeply sensible that the divine 
justice might be not only vindicated, but glori- 
fied, in saving him by the blood of Jesus, even 
that blood which cleanse th from all sin. He 
was led to see and feel the riches of redeeming 
love and grace in such a manner as not only 
engaged him, with the utmost pleasure and con- 
fidence, to venture his soul upon them, but even 
swallowed up, as it were, his whole heart in the 
returns of love, which, from that blessed time, 
became the genuine and delightful principle of 
obedience, and animated him with an enlarged 
heart to run the ways of God's commandments. 
Thus God was pleased — as he himself used 
to speak — in an hour to turn his captivity. 
All the terrors of his former state were turned 
into unutterable joy. And though the first • 
ecstasies of it afterward subsided into a more 
calm and composed delight, yet were the im- 
pressions so deep and so permanent, that he 
declared, on the word of a Christian, wonderful 
as it might seem, that for about seven years 
after this he enjoyed nearly a heaven upon 
earth. His soul was almost continually filled 



22 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



with a sense of the love of God in Christ ; so 
that from the time of his waking in the morn- 
ing, his heart was rising to God, and triumphing 
in him ; and these thoughts attended him 
through all the day, till he lay down on his bed 
again, and a short parenthesis of sleep — for it 
was but a very short one that he allowed him- 
self — invigorated his animal powers for renew- 
ing those thoughts with greater intenseness and 
sensibility. 

A life any thing like this could not be entered 
upon in the midst of such company as he was 
obliged to keep, without great opposition. He, 
however, early began a practice, which to the last 
day of his life he retained, of reproving vice 
and profaneness ; and was never afraid to de- 
bate the matter with any, under the conscious- 
ness of such superiority in the goodness of his 
cause. 

A remarkable instance of this happened 
about the middle of the year 1720, on his first 
return to make any considerable abode in Eng- 
land after his remarkable change. He had 
heard on the other side of the water, that it was 
currently reported among his companions at 
home, that he was stark mad — a report at 
which no reader, who knows the wisdom of the 
world in these matters, will be much surprised. 
He hence concluded that he should have many 
battles to fight, and was willing to dispatch the 
business as fast as he could. And therefore, 
being to spend a few days at the country-house 
of a person of distinguished rank, with whom 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 23 



he had been very intimate, he begged the favor 
of him that he would contrive matters so, that a 
day or two after he came down, several of their 
former gay companions might meet at his lord- 
ship's table ; that he might have an opportunity 
of making his apology to them, and acquainting 
them with the nature and reasons of his change. 
It was accordingly agreed to ; and a pretty 
large company met on the day appointed, with 
previous notice that Colonel Gardiner would be 
there. A good deal of raillery passed at din- 
ner, to which the colonel made very little an- 
swer. But when the cloth was taken away, and 
the servants had retired, he begged their pa- 
tience for a few minutes, and then plainly and 
seriously told them what notions he entertained 
of virtue and religion, and on what considera- 
tions he had absolutely determined that, by the 
grace of God, he would make these things the 
care and business of his life, whatever he might 
lose by it, and whatever censure and contempt 
he might incur. He well knew how improper it 
was in such company to relate the extraordinary 
manner in which he was awakened, which they 
would probably have interpreted as a demon- 
stration of lunacy, against all the gravity and 
solidity of his discourse ; but he contented him- 
self with such a rational defense of a righteous, 
sober, and godly life, as he knew none of them 
could with any shadow of reason contest. He 
then challenged them to propose any thing they 
could urge, to prove that a life of irreligion and 
debauchery was preferable to the fear, love, and 



24 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



worship of the eternal God, and a conduct 
agreeable to the precepts of his gospel. And 
he failed not to bear his testimony, from his own 
experience — to one part of which many of 
them had been witnesses — that, after having 
run the round of sensual pleasure, with all the 
advantages the best constitution and spirits 
could give him, he had never tasted any thing 
deserving to be called happiness, till he made 
religion his refuge and delight. He testified, 
calmly and boldly, the habitual serenity and 
peace that he now felt in his own breast, and 
the composure and pleasure with which he 
looked forward to objects which the gayest sin- 
ner must acknowledge to be equally unavoidable 
and dreadful. 

Upon this, the master of the table, a person 
of a very frank and candid disposition, cut 
short the debate by saying, " Come, let us call 
another cause : we thought this man mad, and 
he is in good earnest proving that we are so." 
On the whole, this well-judged circumstance 
saved him a good deal of further trouble. 
When his former acquaintances observed that 
he was still conversable and innocently cheerful, 
and that^ he was immovable in his resolution, 
they desisted from further importunity. And 
he declared, that instead of losing one valuable 
friend by this change in his character, he found 
himself much more esteemed and regarded by 
many who could not persuade themselves to 
imitate his example. 

Nothing remarkable occurred in the colonel's 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 25 

life from this period till the year 1726, when he 
married the Lady Frances Erskine, daughter to 
the Earl of Buchan, by whom he had thirteen 
children, five of whom survived their lather. 

Before the close of these short memoirs^ it 
may not be improper, or without its use, to give 
the reader a sketch of the character of this ex- 
cellent man, with reference to his particular rel- 
ative situations ; in some one or other of which 
the reader may certainly find a model worthy oi 
his imitation. 

To view him first in the calmness of domestic 
life, and at the head of his affectionate family, 
_it will naturally be supposed that, as soon as 
he had a house, he erected an altar in it ; that 
the word of God was read there, and prayers 
and praises constantly offered. These were not 
to be omitted on account of any guest; for he 
esteemed it a part of due respect to those that 
remained under his roof to take it for granted 
they would look upon it as a very bad compli- 
ment to imagine they would have been obliged 
by his neglecting the duties of religion on their 
account. As his family increased, he had^ a 
minister statedly resident in his house, who 
discharged the offices of tutor and chaplain, 
and was always treated with kindness and re- 
spect. He was constant in his attendance on 
public worship, in which exemplary care was 
taken that the children and servants might ac- 
company the heads of the family. 

The necessity of being so many months to- 



26 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



gether distant from home prevented him from 
taking part in several of those condescending 
labors connected with the education of his chil- 
dren in early life, which, to a soul so benev- 
olent, so wise, and so zealous, would undoubt- 
edly have afforded a very exquisite pleasure : 
but when he was with them, he failed not to 
instruct and admonish them ; and the constant 
deep sense with which he spoke of divine things, 
and the real, unaffected indifference which he 
always showed for what this vain world is most 
ready to admire, were daily lessons of wisdom 
and of piety. And it was easy to perceive that 
the openings of genius in the young branches 
of his family gave him great delight, and that 
he had a secret ambition to see them excel in 
what they undertook. Yet he was very jealous 
over his heart, lest he should be too fondly 
attached to them, and was an eminent proficient 
in the blessed science of resignation to the di- 
vine will. 

To consider him in his military character — 
his bravery was as remarkable in the field of 
battle as his milder virtues in the domestic 
circle ; and he was particularly careful to pre- 
vent the various duties of religion and his pro- 
fession from interfering with one another, either 
in himself or in others. He therefore abhorred 
every thing that should look like a contrivance 
to keep the soldiers employed about their horses 
and their arms at the season of public worship ; 
far from that, he used to have them drawn up 
just before it began, and from the parade they 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 27 



went off to the house of God, where they be- 
haved with as much reverence, gravity, and 
decorum, during the time of divine service, as 
any of their fellow-worshipers. 

That his remarkable care to maintain good 
discipline among them might be the more effec- 
tual, he made himself on all occasions accessible 
to them, and expressed a great concern for their 
interest, temporal as well as spiritual ; yet he 
had all the firmness requisite to the infliction of 
punishment where he judged it necessary. 

We may notice one instance of his conduct, 
which happened at Leicester. While part of his 
regiment was encamped in that neighborhood, 
the colonel went, unknown, to the camp, in the 
middle of the night ; for sometimes he lodged 
at his quarters in the town. One of the sen- 
tinels had abandoned his post, and, on being 
seized, broke out into some oaths and profane 
execrations against those that discovered him 
— a crime of which the colonel had the great- 
est abhorrence, and on which he never failed 
to animadvert. The man afterward appeared 
much ashamed and concerned for what he had 
done. But the colonel ordered him to be 
brought up early the next morning to his own 
quarters, where he had prepared a picket, on 
which he appointed him a private sort of pen- 
ance ; and while he was put upon it, he dis- 
coursed with him seriously and tenderly upon 
the evils and aggravations of his fault, admon- 
ishing him of the divine displeasure which he 
had incurred ; and then urged him to argue, 



28 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



from the pain which he then felt, how infinitely 
more dreadful it must be to " fall into the hands 
of the living God," and to meet the terrors of 
that damnation which he had been accustomed 
impiously to call upon himself and his com- 
panions. The result of this proceeding was, 
that the offender accepted his punishment, not 
only with submission, but with thankfulness ; 
and spoke of it some years after in such a man- 
ner, that there seemed reason to hope it had 
been instrumental in producing a change in his 
heart, as well as in his life. 

Indeed, this excellent officer always expressed 
the greatest reverence for the name of the 
blessed God, and endeavored to suppress, and, 
if possible, to extirpate, that detestable sin of 
swearing and cursing, which is every where so 
common, and especially among military men. 
He often declared his sentiments with respect to 
this enormity, at the head of the regiment, and 
urged his captains and their subalterns to take 
the greatest care that they did not give the 
sanction of their example to that which, by 
their office, they were obliged to punish in oth- 
ers. His zeal on these occasions wrought in a 
very active, and sometimes in a remarkably suc- 
cessful manner, among not only his equals, but 
his superiors, too. 

Nor was his charity less conspicuous than his 
zeal. The lively and tender feelings of his 
heart engaged him to dispense his bounties 
with a liberal hand ; and, above all, his sincere 
and ardent love to the Lord Jesus Christ led 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 29 



him to feel, with a true sympathy, the concerns 
of his poor members. In consequence of this, 
he honored several of his friends with commis- 
sions for the relief of the poor ; and esteemed 
it an honor which Providence conferred upon 
him, that he should be made the Lord's almoner 
for the relief of such. 

That heroic contempt of death, which had 
often discovered itself in the midst of former 
dangers, was manifested now in his discourse 
with several of his most intimate friends. And 
as he had in former years often expressed a 
desire, " that, if it were the will of God, he 
might have some honorable call to sacrifice his 
life in defense of religion and the liberties of 
his country," so, when it appeared to him most 
probable that he might be called to it immedi- 
ately, he met the summons with the greatest 
readiness. This appears from a letter which he 
wrote only eight days before his death : " The 
enemy," says he, " are advancing to cross the 
Frith ; but I trust in the Almighty God, who 
doeth whatsoever he pleaseth in the armies of 
heaven and among the inhabitants of the earth." 

These sentiments wrought in him to the last, 
in the most effectual manner. But he was or- 
dered to inarch as fast as possible to Dunbar, 
and that hasty retreat, in concurrence with the 
news which they soon after received of the sur- 
render of Edinburgh to the enemy, struck a 
visible panic into both the regiments of dra- 
goons. This affected the colonel so much that, 
on Thursday before the fatal action of Preston- 



30 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



Pans, he intimated to an officer of considerable 
rank, that he expected the event would be as in 
fact it proved ; and to a person who visited him 
he said, " I can not influence the conduct of 
others as I could wish, but I have one life to 
sacrifice to my country's safety, and I shall not 
spare it." 

On Friday, September 20, the day before the 
battle which transmitted him to his immortal 
crown, when the whole army was drawn up 
about noon, the colonel rode through all the 
ranks of his own regiment, addressing them at 
once in the most respectful and animating man- 
ner, both as soldiers and as Christians, to en- 
gage them to exert themselves courageously in 
the service of their country, and to neglect 
nothing that might have a tendency to prepare 
them for whatever event might happen. They 
seemed much affected with the address. 

He continued all night under arms, wrapped 
up in his cloak, and sheltered under a rick of 
barley which happened to be in the field. 
About three in the morning, he called his do- 
mestic servants to him, of whom there were 
four in waiting. He dismissed three of them 
with the most affectionate Christian advice, and 
such solemn charges relative to the performance 
of their duty, and care of their souls, as seemed 
plainly to intimate that he apprehended he was 
taking his last farewell of them. There is 
great reason to believe that he spent the little 
remainder of time, which could not be much 
above an hour, in those devout exercises of soul 



SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 31 



which had so long been habitual to him. The 
army was alarmed at break of day by the noise 
of the enemy's approach, and the attack was 
made before sunrise. As soon as the enemy 
came within gunshot, they commenced a furious 
fire ; and the dragoons, which constituted the 
left wing, immediately fled. The colonel, at the 
beginning of the attack, which in the whole 
lasted but a few minutes, received a bullet in his 
left breast, which made him give a sudden 
spring in his saddle ; upon which his servant, 
who had led the horse, would have persuaded 
him to retreat ; but he said it was only a wound 
in the flesh, and fought on, though he pres- 
ently received a shot in the right thigh. The 
colonel was, for a few moments, supported by 
his men, and particularly by about fifteen dra- 
goons, who stood by him to the last. But after 
a faint fire, the regiment in general was seized 
with a panic ; and though the colonel and some 
gallant officers did what they could to rally them 
once or twice, they at last took a precipitate 
flight. Just at this moment Colonel Gardiner 
saw a party of foot who were then bravely fight- 
ing near him, but had no officer to head them, 
and rode immediately to their aid ; but a High- 
lander, advancing to him with a scythe fastened 
to a long pole, gave him such a deep wound on 
his right arm, that his sword dropped out of his 
hand ; and at the same time, several others 
coming about him, while he was thus dreadfully 
entangled with that cruel weapon, he was 
dragged off from his horse. The moment he 



82 SKETCH OF COL. GARDINER. 



fell, another Highlander gave him a stroke, 
either with a broadsword or a Lochaber-ax, on 
the head, which was the mortal blow. All that 
his faithful attendant saw further at this time 
was, that as his hat was falling off, he took it in 
his left hand, and waved it as a signal to him to 
retreat, and added, — which were the last words 
he ever heard him speak, — "Take care of 
yourself;" upon which the servant immediately 
tied to a mill, at the distance of about two 
miles from the spot on which the colonel fell, 
where he changed his dress, and, disguised like 
a miller's servant, returned with a cart about 
two hours after the engagement. The hurry of 
the action was then pretty well over, and he 
found his much-honored master not only plun- 
dered of his watch and other things of value, 
but also stripped of his upper garments and 
boots, yet still breathing ; and adds, that though 
he was not capable of speech, yet on taking him 
up, he opened his eyes, which makes it some- 
thing questionable whether he were altogether 
insensible. In this condition, and in this man- 
ner, he conveyed him to the church of Tranent, 
whence he was immediately taken into the min- 
ister's house, and laid in a bed ; where he con- 
tinued breathing till about eleven in the fore- 
noon, when he took his final leave of pain and 
sorrow. His remains were interred the Tues- 
day following, September 24, at the parish church 
of Tranent, where he had usually attended di- 
vine service, with great solemnity. 



m 2) 



